Deception
by darkphoneix
Summary: Ranma gets duped into doing something stupid and it'll change his life forever.
1. Prologue

Deception: Prologue  
  
The air hummed, shivering with some undefinable quality that a  
sensitive person may have called power. If one looked closely, not  
allowing their eyes to focus properly, they would eventually, if they  
were lucky, catch a flash of movement, a shadow where none should be  
cast. Then, the hum grew, became a high whining that slowly decreased  
in pitch until the very walls of the dojo shook. Finally, in a  
rumbling roar, a figure emerged from thin air. Chest heaving, his  
clothes soaked with persperation, Ranma Saotome slumped to the wooden  
floor beneath him. A hazy gray, smokelike aura drifted from his body,  
fading from existance shortly thereafter.  
  
"Too much," Ranma gasped."Too much..." And he fell to the panelled  
floor, unconscious. He was barely breathing when they found him.  
  
****  
  
The immediate and reflexive urge was to rush Ranma to Dr. Tofu's  
clinic. The man wasn't exactly a doctor in the traditional sense, but  
his brand of medicine dealt with the arcane and the abstract. Who  
better to care for one such as Ranma Saotome? The timely arrival of a  
horrified Cologne rapidly changed the plans.  
  
"Oh, son-in-law, what have you done?" Cologne moaned, her tiny little  
hands grasping her staff until the gnarled wood groaned in sympathy.  
  
"What's wrong with Ranma?" Akane asked tenuously. She was controlling  
herself through a massive effort of will, but tears leaked from her  
eyes nonetheless and her entire body trembled noticeably.  
  
"He's gone too far...I felt the eminations all the way from the  
Nekohaten...too far," Cologne muttered, tapping several pressure  
points along Ranma's upper chest and neck. His breathing became  
slightly less labored and gained a hint of regularity.  
  
Nabiki, worried for Ranma, the gullible, lucrative, stupid little  
brother that she never had, asked,"What do you mean 'too far'? What  
eminations?"  
  
"Eminations in chi aura generated by all living things in Nerima,  
child. To one sensitive to it, this little corner of Japan glows like  
a bonfire." Cologne shook her head, continuing to administer aide to  
Ranma while explaining,"A few minutes ago nearly every passive aura in  
this district was blown away by son-in-law. I don't know how he did  
it, but the effort has drained his body of life and taxed his spirit  
beyond imagining."  
  
"But he'll be all right, won't he?" Akane's hands now shook so  
violently that she had to ball them into fists and hold them at her  
side. She only succeeded in driving her finger nails deeply into her  
palms. The pain, gratefully, distracted her a bit.  
  
Cologne looked at the young girl in sympathy, her eyes relaying as  
much comfort as she could manage."Child, for Ranma to survive this  
ordeal, I fear that nothing short of divine intervention or some magic  
beyond my knowledge will be necessary."  
  
Akane closed her eyes, a deep moan rising from her throat. The girl  
felt like she was falling, spiralling out of control, buffeted on all  
sides by unseen attackers. A cool, soothing blankness began to  
intrudeupon her distressed consciousness.  
  
Kasumi caught her sister as she fell. Unable to support the weight of  
her deceptively heavy sister, Kasumi changed the effort into  
cushioning her sister's fall by sinking to her knees with the younger  
girl cradled in her arms. She stroked Akane's short black hair,  
murmurring kind words to her sister. Oh, poor Ranma, such a kind, if  
misguided young man! Kasumi thanked the kami that Mr. Saotome and her  
father were away at another 'council meeting'. She didn't know what  
she would have done to comfort and calm everyone.  
  
Ranma coughed, a series of muscle spasms racking his body until his  
back formed a bow. The seizure passed and Ranma slumped back to  
inactivity. His chest no longer rose and fell. There was no heart  
beat when Cologne checked, virtually blurring with speed in urgency.  
  
Nabiki wathced Cologne shake her head minutely and knew that Ranma was  
gone. His face, normally so full of life and overwhelming vitality  
was pale, slack. Her respect for Cologne grew tenfold as she observed  
the ancient woman frantically trying to bring Ranma back to life with  
a hand that glowed purple and seemed to have the same effect as a  
defibulator. Eventually, Nabiki knew not how long, Colonge drew back  
and looked up at her. The piercing black eyes were hooded and swam  
with unshed tears. Oddly, Nabiki felt something wet sliding down her  
face. She reached up to brush away the tears, amazed that she was  
crying. The last time she'd cried, ever, had been at her mother's  
funeral service all those years ago.  
  
****  
  
Ranma Saotome was laid to rest in a small, private ceremony, attended  
only by the Tendos, Saotomes, and Ranma's closest friends and rivals.  
There was much crying involved, some wailing at the injustice of it  
all, and no small amount of cursing Ranma for letting himself die.  
  
Life in Nerima would never be the same.  
  
****  
  
Ranma's eyes opened slowly, adjusting rapidly to the low light of a  
nearly full sunset. He felt incredibly weak, but hunger overrode the  
feeling. Following his nose, he was led to a steaming bowl of broth  
that rested on a small nightstand. He attacked the soup with a  
vengeance. Even as he drained a cool mug of water, Ranma felt  
strength slowly returning as his rapid metabolism went to work on the  
first meal it had had in almost a week.  
  
Just as he was about to attempt to stand, the door to the shadowed  
room swung open. Ranma didn't know where he was, but he was sure he  
wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight in his current condition.  
Despite that, he tensed his muscles, prepared to spring into action at  
the merest hint of a threat to his person. A moment later and Ranma  
allowed himself to relax.  
  
"Son-in-law, you must rest. You have been through a very trying  
ordeal," Cologne said gently. On an ornate silver tray she bore  
another bowl of the broth and a small pot of tea."This will help you  
to further regain your strength." Placing the tray on the nightstand,  
Cologne drew back and asked,"How do you feel, son-in-law?"  
  
"Awful," Ranma croaked, stunned at how weak and hoarse his voice  
sounded."Ugh, old ghoul, what happened to me? The last thing I  
remember is practicing that new speed technique you showed me...that's  
all."  
  
With a hop, the Amazon alighted on Ranma's bed."Ranma, this is going  
to be very difficult to accept, and you should not feel guilty. I  
blame myself for not warning you, though I never suspected even you to  
learn the technique so quickly."  
  
Confused, Ranma asked,"Old ghoul, what are you talking about? What  
happened?" He was getting worried. Where was everyone else at? Where  
was Akane? She usually greeted him with an insult or two whenever he  
regained consciousness.  
  
"When you slipped back into normal space, somehow, Ranma, you created  
an enormous shockwave. It levelled the dojo and much of the  
surrounding city," Cologne answered, laying her wrinkled little hand  
on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.  
  
"Akane? Pop? Kasumi?..." Ranma trailed off, his eyes widening in  
horror as he realized the finality in Cologne's words. They were  
gone. He'd killed them. They were gone. The only family he'd ever  
known. Gone. Dead. His fault.  
  
Cologne jumped back as Ranma became enshrouded in a black and green  
aura of complete and utter despair. The bed and floor beneath him and  
the ceiling above simply dissolved. Then, emotionally spent and  
physically exhausted by the momentary lapse in control, Ranma slumped  
to the ground, once again unconscious.  
  
****  
  
The best way to break someone was to never let them know they were  
being broken. To shape someone to your will is best achieved by  
making your will their own.  
  
Cologne's lips pulled back into a ghastly version of a grin. Ranma  
would make a truly magnificent addition to the tribe.  
  
****  
  
Author's Notes: Ugh, stupid cold front, damned weather. Thanks to  
some kind of illness, I'm guessing a bad head cold with a touch of  
strepthroat, major computer problems(Gateway sucks, but at least the  
tech support people are nice) and a tad of writer's block(no, the  
major case of that from this summer isn't coming back), I haven't  
wrote anything in a while. Got this idea last night while I was  
trying to go to sleep, and decided to write it out. It's amazing how  
little sleep you need when you're too miserable to recognize  
exhaustion as anything but another reason to bitch and moan. Anyway,  
I'll probably continue this for three or four more chapters, like I do  
with almost all my works, then start something else and forget about  
it. Maybe not, though, so look out for the next part sometime soon.  
C&C is welcome at dark_phoneix@hotmail.com 


	2. Chapter 1

Deception: Chapter 1, Vengeance and Consequences  
  
  
The woman died, blood gurgling out of what had once been her throat,  
but before the killing blow had been dealt, she screamed. Ranma  
cursed himself for a fool. He should have finished the bitch off and  
had fun later. Surely the sentries had heard the shriek. Nearly a  
hundred women patrolled the village and it's surroundings at night, as  
much for the safety of those within its walls as to keep in the  
unfortunate husbands and slaves who did not have the power to escape.  
  
Well, they would all be dead soon, anyway, so what if he couldn't  
personally kill as many as he'd hoped? Cologne was all that mattered.  
She was tough, there was a chance she could survive the incoming  
airstrike. Besides, he owed her, owed her big time. She'd stolen his  
life away from him, literally, and Ranma was determined she know the  
downfall of her entire culture rested on her shoulders, the product of  
her actions.  
  
The martial artist, his black fatigues making him nearly  
indistinguishable in the moonless night, shrugged out of his backpack.  
From within, Ranma retrieved several pieces of armor and a pair of  
knee braces. A few seconds later he had secured the ultralight  
polymer bracers and locked them into a pair of gloves specially  
reinforced and armored with multiple locking panels of the same  
material that formed the bracers. The knee braces snapped into place  
and were tightened with a small ratchet before sliding the shin guards  
into their holding slots.  
  
The armor wasn't purely for protection, though Ranma had had that in  
mind when he'd requisitioned it. To effectively combat Cologne, he'd  
have to slip into the soul stream, a higher dimension of existance  
only attainable if one moved at speeds several times that of sound, as  
well as resonated properly with the surrounding environment. Ranma  
had learned early on that the speed required to stay in the soul  
stream put immense stress on his joints, and the braces would keep him  
from making any damaging mistakes during the upcoming fight. Cologne  
didn't have this disadvantage. Her joints were little more than worn  
stubs of bone, made usable by perfectly controlled chi.  
  
****  
  
Cologne ghosted through the chaos that was her village ablaze.  
Repeated drills had turned the warriors into an effective fire  
fighting force, and bucket lines were already forming to combat the  
major fires, yet the flames still spread, too well entrenched in some  
cases, but mostly too numerous to contain. The cellar carved into the  
bedrock beneath the communal council building had a number of magical  
artifacts, one of which had been originally crafted to provide  
protection against the Phoenix Lord of Jusendo, but also served as a  
rather effective fire extinguisher.  
  
Hopefully another elder, one closer to the cellar had already thought  
to retrieve the jewel, but Cologne couldn't take any chances. Winter  
was coming and if the flames reached the food stores many could starve  
to death, maybe even forcing the tribe to resort to its long abandoned  
custom of raiding the surrounding villages for food instead of the  
just the more expendable goods, such as men.  
  
The old woman's heart sank and a slow buring anger rose within her  
breast as she arrived to see the council building little more than a  
pile of smoking rubble. Sabotage, it could be nothing else. That  
building had been stone, the only wood within its structure aged oak  
so dense and tough that it too may as well have been stone. The Musk?  
Unlikely, they were too few in numbers to hope to fend off an Amazon  
war party, even with the help of their sovereign, Prince Herb. The  
Phoenix People were much more likely culprits. Their wings gave them  
a definite mobility advantage, allowing them to strike silently  
avoiding guards stationed on the walls, and Saffron wasn't the only  
member of that race capable of generating and manipulating fire.  
  
There would be time for recrimination and retribution later, she had  
to retireve the jewel from the rubble. The cellar was sturdily built  
and chances were high that it hadn't caved in. Other elders were  
arriving, finally. Colonge growled a warning to the woman to stay  
alert as she focussed her senses on the soil below. She had barely  
expanded her perceptions a foot into the ground when a pained shout  
reached her ears. Slowly, the Amazon drew back into herself,  
automatically seaking out the source of the cry. One of her fellow  
elders was down, obviously dead from the removal of her head.  
Darkness and blood obscured the corpses physical prescence, yet  
Cologne could feel the lingering traces of chi well enough to know  
that the victim was one of her oldest and dearest friends, Shampoo.  
Her own great-granddaughter was named after the fallen woman.  
  
Less than a second had passed since her withdrawl from the ground, but  
another strangled cry sounded to Cologne's left. Spinning around,  
Cologne saw an older Amazon woman clutching at the stump that had once  
been her arm. Before she could render any assitance, the woman's hand  
glowed with an intense yellow aura, liberally streaked with the orange  
of pain. With a primal scream of purest pain, the woman cauterized  
her own wound and ran off to join her sisters in the effort to save  
the village.  
  
Then Cologne felt it. A disturbance in the harmonics of the soul  
stream, that mysterious place that acted as an intermidiary stop  
between life and death. Reflexively, she sent out feelers of chi,  
shifting them to the proper pattern to pierce the stream. The action  
triggered a response, something she hadn't expected. It came as a  
shock, a literal blow of psychic energy that left Cologne reeling, her  
staff the only means of supporting herself.  
  
"Ah, Cologne, fancy meeting you here," came a voice from behind. Now  
she knew her enemy, now she had something to fight. Cologne turned to  
face Ranma, seeing the man as a dark splotch of shadow backlit by the  
flames in the background. Closer examination revealed that he wore  
armor. It wasn't much compared to the garb of a modern day soldier,  
and even less impressive than that used by Amazons in battle. That  
Ranma wore armor meant he was serious, deadly serious.  
  
Ranma's use of the soul stream, a carefully guarded Amazon secret,  
would have warranted his death, the massive damage to the village  
meant weeks, if not months of torture, but the murder of an elder of  
the tribe was a fate worse than death, an eternal existance imprisoned  
within the springs of woe, eternal agony and despair his only  
companions. Now, how was she supposed to subdue him for the  
punishment to be dealt?  
  
****  
  
He watched as Cologne stared at him impassively. Had old age finally  
caught up with her just when his revenge would be wraught? Without  
turning his attention from the woman before him, Ranma's arm blurred,  
launching a small, flattened metal projectile at an unfortunate Amazon  
who wandered too close. In mid-flight a mechanism activated causing  
the device to pivot on itself, seemingly growing into a flying cross.  
Before it struck the woman a moment later, the change repeated,  
leaving a spinning blade three feet long to bisect the woman at a  
forty five degree angle from shoulder to hip.  
  
"Aren't you going to say something?" Ranma queried. He had roughly  
two hours to get out of the valley, plenty of time at the speeds he  
could move, but this moment had been years in coming, and further  
delays were annoying.  
  
"What is there it say, young warrior?" Cologne responded, unshaken by  
the gruesome death of her fellow tribeswoman.  
  
Ranma shrugged."Nothing really, though it would be nice to hear an  
apology. I mean, you did destroy my life, not that it was much of a  
life in the first place, but it was all I had, and you took it upon  
yourself to interfere with it. Oh well, all that doesn't matter  
anyway. I'll kill you in a few minutes, I'm not arrogant enough to  
believe I can take you too easily, then watch as your village is  
destroyed, along with every man, woman, and child." He looked at the  
surrounding village, the immediate area nearly deserted as everyone  
expended their efforts in a futile attempt to save their homes.  
"Twisted as it may sound, all this just brings a warm glow to my  
heart. Kinda funny, I'd say, since I am what you made me, afterall."  
  
Something between the rasping of steel and stretching of rubber  
sounded within the nearly silent clearing, and from the armored  
bracelet on each of Ranma's forearms, a three foot blade of dull gray  
metal grew. Each was so slender as to nearly disappear if looked at  
crosswise, and they terminated in needle fine points capable of  
piercing the protective plating of a tank.  
  
"And the battle is joined," Ranma heard Cologne whisper as she  
blurred, fading into the stream.  
  
****  
  
It was the swords that made the final difference. Cologne had the  
reach advantage, even with Ranma's weapons, but the martial artist was  
as fast as her and used the twin blades to weave an impossible  
defense, as she found out when several inches of her staff became wood  
chips after attempting an early debiliatting shiatsu strike.  
  
Sound didn't exist within the stream, and very little energy was  
transmitted from it to the world of life, so the battle, a spectacular  
display of skill and power, went unwitnessed by the frantically  
laboring Amazons. Chi blasts that would have vaporized acres of real  
estate did little more than kick up puffs of dust, and physical  
impacts possessing the force of speeding locomotives barely shook the  
earth.  
  
At uncommon intervals, both combatants would slip back into the real  
for a breath of air, returning too quickly for their opponent to gain  
an advantage. Soon, Cologne felt the draining effect of remaining in  
the soul stream for such and extended period of time. She had to end  
the fight before her reserves became to depleted to sustain her  
deficient body. A burst of speed, the equivalent of to the kacchu  
tenshin amaguriken, but several magnitudes faster and designed  
specifically for use within the stream, propelled Cologne forward.  
She saw that Ranma would not be able to bring his blades around to  
properly defend himself and was relieved, for this was a fight who's  
outcome could decide the future of her people.  
  
Alas, it was not to be.  
  
****  
  
Ranma smirked internally, ignoring the throbbing in his knees and  
ankles. He had a minute, two at the most, before he would need a  
serious break and time to regenerate the damage done to his legs by  
such high speed combat. Thankfully, the old ghoul fell for the bait,  
leaving herself open in an attempt to take him down before her own  
flagging strength failed.  
  
The look upon the bulging, bloodshot eyes as Ranma's sword sprung from  
a forward position to its preprogrammed back facing one and speared  
Cologne to the ground would live in his memory forever, a moment to be  
cherished for decades to come. With the ceasation of motion, they  
both returned from the soul stream.  
  
"So much for three thousand years of Amazon knowledge, eh?" Ranma  
taunted. The diminuitive body pinned below him convulsed, coughing up  
a bloody froth. "Hurts, don't it, knowing that you've failed, that  
everyone you care about is going to die because of mistakes you made?"  
A slightly unstable chuckle was followed by one last statement. "Then  
again, getting run through like that probably doesn't feel all that  
great, either."  
  
Ranma stood, withdrawing the blade from Cologne's back and using the  
proper blink sequence to resheath the swords within his bracers. A  
minute build up of chi drew Ranma's attention and he bent to look at  
his victim, the true object of his wrath. She raised a trembling hand  
into the air, pointing vaguely in his direction, and released a spark  
of white energy. Ranma sensed the threat embodied within the harmless  
appearing gesture, and leapt clear as the spark expanded into a twenty  
foot wide column of light that turned the area he had stood on, as  
well as Cologne's body, into a pool of molten rock.  
  
Looked like the old bitch had one last trick left in her. It was a  
nice one too, maybe he could duplicate it? Time for that later.  
Ranma looked back to the village he and Colgone left behind during  
their fight. The fires were dying down and the sky no longer glowed  
as intensely red as it had during the first few minutes of his  
excursion into arson.  
  
****  
  
Ranma relaxed, leaning back in his seat as the pilot engaged the  
engines and the rotors shrieked into activity before being quited by  
sonic dampeners. The dull thump of high explosives sounded thoughout  
the clearing and needles fell from the disturbed trees as Ranma's air  
support finished what he hadn't.  
  
Now he could see about getting some therapy, or at the very least, a  
vacation. Yesm he deserved a vacation. He'd just single handedly,  
well almost single handedly, destroyed a serious threat to global  
security. No one who knew of the Amazons wanted a spy or agent with  
access to their abilites or paranormal artifacts free to wreak havoc.  
  
****  
  
The stealth chopper set down on the carrier deck with a slight jar.  
Ranma unbuckled his safety harness, clapped the pilot on the shoulder  
for a job well done, and went to get some rest.  
  
The quarters aboard the Freedom were cramped, not as bad as the  
previous generation of carriers, but nothing to write home about.  
Ranma's special status meant he got his own cabin, an area smaller  
than most prison cells. It served its purpose, allowing him to  
strecth out and sleep, as well as having walls shielded heavily enough  
to block the interference the ship's quasi-plasma engine generated  
with his chi.  
  
****  
  
:For Your Eyes Only:  
  
Read the block lettering stamped on the manilla envelope Ranma awoke  
to find lying next to his head. Geeze, couldn't he get a little R&R  
after a hard night of muder and mayhem? With a sigh, Ranma tore open  
the thick yellow packet and dumped its contents onto his matress.  
  
A tour brochure, a wad of cash, and a plane ticket. Okay, THAT was  
unexpected. A note slid out last. Ranma caught it in before it  
landed and read:  
  
Agent 009  
  
Work on your tan, you're starting to look pale.  
  
The Grand High Bitch,  
M  
  
****  
  
Author's Notes: This is unusual. I wrote it cause I got pissed off  
at something I read and had a prologue lying around on my computer  
that I figured would fit in nicely with this. If I continue with this  
fic it will be in shorter chapters, each with Ranma doing secret agent  
stuff, but none of them this dark or violent. 


End file.
